Finally Enough Pussies Available

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This is a continuation of “Still Too Many Cocks” and “Too Many Cocks.”


One of my triplet brothers, Brett, and I continued in our sexual bliss throughout the summer. I was shocked that since my sexual needs were more than gratified I did better in everything else. I was a star at the charity my mother ran, and was given as much responsibility as I was willing to accept [of course I didn’t accept so much as to interfere with my sex life with Brett], and I became the leading hitter in the summer softball league I played in.

While the charity work was rewarding, softball was even more fun because Brett was our team’s coach. All of the other girls on the team made fools of themselves drooling all over Brett, making me laugh — especially when Brett would give me “Help me out” looks when he was being particularly fawned over. In the state summer league tournament we had to go on the road and stay in a hotel three nights. All of the other girls were hoping Brett would “room” with them, and were disappointed when he stayed with his little sister instead.

Since our RV trip out West, Brett and I had not been able to spend the entire night alone so we really took advantage of the three nights together during the softball tournament. Fucking before going to sleep, and waking in the middle of the night to fuck again, not only didn’t interfere with my performance on the softball field it enhanced it. I slept so well because Brett did such a good job of fucking me that I was completely rested and loose during the games.

We came in 2nd in the State, but I was chosen most valuable player in part because I hit two home runs and drove in all our runs in our championship game loss (5-4). What happened after that was an even bigger reward!

Before we left for home after the championship game Brett said “There’s someone I want you to meet,” and led me over to an athletic woman in her thirties that I had noticed had attended all of the games. “Amy, this is Brenda Williams; she’s the softball coach at X college,” “X” being the college that Brett attended.

“Nice to meet you Amy, you were truly terrific in the tournament,” Brenda said, shaking my hand.

“Thank you so much, Brenda; with a great coach like Brett I’m really coming into my own,” I said with a sly smile while winking at Brett in a way Brenda couldn’t see.

“Brett tells me that you’ve only been playing competitive softball two years, is that right?”

“Yeah, but I always played with my brothers, and Brett and I still ‘fool around,'” I quipped, again giving Brett a wink which this time resulted in him blushing.

“It’s amazing that you could be this good so soon after starting to play. Say, as you know Division III schools don’t have athletic scholarships, but coaches can get special dispensation for several players a year for academic scholarships and early or late admission. I have an opening on our team at X that I’d like you to fill, and since Brett tells me you have great grades I can get you a partial academic scholarship and admission even at this late date if you want to come to X.”

I know that my jaw dropped; I looked over at Brett and he was wearing the sexiest smile I had ever seen in my life.

“Let me talk it over with my family; can I let you know in two days?”

“You can even take three days, but I have to know by then; all I’ll need is a copy of your application and letter of acceptance to college Y that you’re presently planning on attending and your high school transcript. Here’s my card; I hope to have you on the team.”

On the drive back home as I surreptitiously fondled Brett’s balls while he drove and the other girls in the van were chatting with each other, in hushed tones I asked “How in the hell did you swing that, Brett?”

“Hey, I just invited Brenda to the tournament. You’re the one who starred.”

“So I guess you think that I’ll go to X now so that you can continue fucking me, huh?”

“I’m not sure I want sex with you anymore, I just want a good sports program at my school” Brett whispered.

“You bastard,” I chortled, squeezing his balls.

“Just kidding,” he half-laughed, half-groaned. Once I released his testicles he continued, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a dream come true; now all we have to do is convince Mom and Dad,” I shot back. Brett just smiled and said “Leave it to me.”

By the next evening Brett had a Power Point demonstration prepared. Using it, my “Mommy and Daddy’s little girl” sweet smile, and the logic of having half my expenses paid by a scholarship and the “protection” of my big brother, it was easy to convince Mom and Dad that we should forfeit the relatively small advance fees we had paid to college Y and have me attend X with Brett. [Of course Mom and Dad had no inkling that Brett was fucking me daily.]

The next morning I called Brenda, emailed her the information she needed, and called college Y to say that I couldn’t come after all. Brenda confirmed my admission and ½ scholarship tuzla escort to X by early evening; when I told Brett he grinned from ear-to-ear. He then squeezed me tight and whispered into my ear “We’re gonna fuck all night to celebrate.”

“No way, dude,” I replied, “Mom and Dad will find out.” He just smiled.

Later that night when I was just about ready to get into bed, and I thought everyone else was already asleep, Brett snuck into my room. Without a word he stuffed pillows under my covers, slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried me to the exercise room, the most remote spot in the house from the master bedroom. He had laid a small mattress he undoubtedly got from a pull-out sofa, pillows and blankets on the carpeted floor, closed and locked the door, and left just a small light on so he could see what he was doing.

Neither of us said a word as he took off my skimpy night shirt, dropped his boxers exposing his raging hard-on, and gently laid me on the mattress. He literally slobbered on my thighs while simultaneously kneading them and my hips while I ran my fingers through his hair.

Once my thighs were shivering from his touch he moved to my pussy. First he pulled my lips apart and stuck his tongue in as far as it would go. After reaming me out he tongued my clit while squeezing and releasing my pussy lips. Once I was about to go crazy he shoved two fingers in and stroked my G-spot while alternating sucking and tonguing my clit. The bastard brought me to three orgasms before he let up.

As I was coming down from my third orgasm the dim light reflected off Brett’s pearly whites, also illuminating a diabolical grin. “Just want you to get an idea of what’s in store for you at school,” Brett snickered as he put my heels over his shoulders and jammed his dick into my pussy. I could feel his balls slamming against my ass with each of his powerful thrusts, each plunge and “smack” accompanied by an animalistic grunt. Brett was in pure jungle mode as he massaged my nipples as he pummeled me.

I climaxed again; as soon as I came down from my fourth orgasm I could feel Brett tensing up. I squeezed his cock with my pc muscle as tightly as I could, causing him to almost immediately explode inside me. About his third cum bomb brought me to my fifth orgasm, making it impossible to control my pc muscle any longer.

As we lay whimpering and exchanging soft kisses my mind was flooded with hundreds of different thoughts, most about how much I loved Brett in every way, how sex with him was fabulous, how thrilled I was with life — but how we could never have a future together if we wanted biological children. I purged the latter thought from my mind as I rolled Brett over and started to suck his cock.

Brett and I had almost no sleep that night. He set an alarm for 5:30 a. m. so that we could sneak back into our rooms before anyone else got up. It rang in the middle of what had to be our fourth actual fuck of the night; I had to stop riding him long enough to turn it off, but then I happily finished him off.

Neither of us was worth a shit that day — in fact we both took naps (unfortunately alone since other family members would be coming home before our naps were finished) so that by the next day we could return to civilization.

My freshman, and Brett’s senior, year in college could not have gone better. Because we knew the other person would always be there for us emotionally, and since we had a perfect passionate sex life, we had no angst or distractions allowing us both to excel in sports and school work.

Brett’s graduation was not that traumatic because he was an entrepreneur and could work wherever he wanted. So he rented an office and a small house in town only a short walk from campus, so we could still be together during my sophomore year.

My sophomore year we both started to think about the future. It started to become an obsession since we both had always wanted kids and knew there was no way we were going to take a chance of having them together especially since we knew from our parents’ family histories that they both carried undesirable recessive genes. Using a pretense that he was doing a paper for school, Brett actually interviewed a genealogist who advised him that in a situation like ours there was a one in three chance that a child could have a serious birth defect or die in infancy.

The idea of either a future without biological children or without the love of my life was actually starting to interfere with my normal activities; even more so for Brett because he was three years older. We had a pow-wow one weekend to address it.

Brett started our discussion with “Amy, as much as it pains me to say it, I think we have got to start seeing other people. That doesn’t mean we can’t still be together. But we need to find future mates and just hope that things can work out.”

I knew he was right, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not having him to myself, and didn’t göztepe escort see how it was possible to love someone else. After a teary-eyed hour long discussion we finally agreed that we needed to see others. However we also agreed that neither of us would have sex with someone else in the house we shared, and that Monday-Thursday we would still fuck each other to our hearts’ content.

Neither Brett nor I had ever lacked for people who were interested in us. We hoped that not too many students or others in the community suspected that something was going on despite both of our cover stories that we had significant others “back home.” Once we told everyone that we had broken up with our home-town sweethearts it was easy to get other people to go out with and, if we were so inclined, to fuck; it was a lot harder to truly enjoy it.

I restricted my “outside interests” to students at college X, or at another college within the same “metropolitan” (really large town or small city) area. Brett, being older, dated college instructors or even professors, members of the community, or even some students.

I never really found anyone I was truthfully interested in. Brett found a history graduate student/teaching assistant instructor at the nearby college that he said was cute (I hadn’t met her) and that he seemed to enjoy fucking on-and-off, so I pretended I was more interested in a couple of guys than I really was. In six months I probably dated ten guys and fucked four, none more than four times, however. I never fucked on the first date. Sex with three of the guys (one was horrible) I’d rate from OK to good, but so paled by comparison to Brett that I was really getting down.

Neither Brett nor I tried to influence the other’s choice of sexual partners and only talked with each other about it in generalities. That is until the start of the second week of summer school. [Brett and I didn’t go “home” during the summer since it would be awkward, and Brett’s business was thriving where we were, so I took summer school classes with the intent of graduating early.]

“Amy, do you have a date for Saturday?” Brett uncharacteristically asked since we both assumed the other was on their own for the weekends.

“Saturday night I do, but not during the day — why?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

At first I was kind of stunned, but I quickly recovered and started probing: “That’s the first time you ever tried to fix me up Brett; what’s going on?”

“I’m not really trying to fix you up. I just met a guy you might like, and I thought I’d introduce you.”

“Why might I like him?”

“Oh, I don’t know. He might be your type.”

“You’re my type — is he like you?”

“He can’t be as cute or cuddly as me,” Brett laughed, “But he is about the same size I am, probably 6’5″, 230 lbs.” Brett is 6’4″, 235 lbs.

“How is this maladroit meeting supposed to come about?” I quizzed.

Brett laughingly replied “I see someone is working on her vocabulary for the GREs, huh? Well I thought that Jim — that’s his name — and his sister could go with us to a ballgame at Fenway. We’d be back by 7:00; your date isn’t before that, is it?”

“No, that’s OK. His sister, huh — you don’t happen to know her, do you?”

“Well — actually — it’s Cindy, the history teaching assistant I’ve gone out with. Her brother just graduated college and is moving here.”

“You worm,” I snickered; “have you ever met this guy or are you just going by what she says about him?”

“No, I’ve met him. He’s nice looking, polite, smart and ripped.”

“So he’s not like you after all, then,” I teased, causing Brett to jump up, turn me upside down, and shake me until I agreed to go to the game.

Actually Brett wasn’t wrong about Jim. He was as good looking, ripped, and smart as any guy I had dated — all at the same time — and very polite, even solicitous. On the way to the ballpark I determined that Cindy was Brett’s age and that Jim was two years younger than she was and a year older than me.

I expected Cindy to be petite; I don’t know why because Brett had, before we started fucking and since our agreement, dated women of all sizes. In fact Cindy was big; probably at least 6 feet tall, and very fit, an all-conference volleyball player in college. She had golden hair, blue eyes, and big knockers. Though her face was not what most men would consider beautiful she was extremely pleasant looking and exuded enthusiasm and friendliness. I could see why Brett liked her.

We had a great time, especially since the Red Sox won in the bottom of the ninth. In fact we had such a good time that after Jim asked if the four of us could go to dinner and dancing in Boston I did something I had never done before. I called my date and canceled on him.

We had an even better time during dinner and while dancing than at the game. I could tell that Jim and Cindy were very close — in fact they were considering renting an apartment together while Jim üsküdar escort worked a summer job and Cindy taught history during summer school. We all danced with each other at various points of time and closed down the dance hall. Jim and I danced a slow dance where he groped me, and I let him, for the “last call.” Jim, Cindy and Brett all had had a fair amount to drink, though they weren’t close to being sloppy drunk; I had one glass of wine at dinner, and that was it. I knew I would be the designated driver.

As we were getting ready to drive back Brett took me aside and inquired about how much I liked Jim. He was extoling Jim’s praises. I found this curious, but since I really did like Jim, it didn’t bother me. Then a really strange comment.

“Amy, I know we have this deal not to have sex with someone else in our house, but it’s too late to bring Jim and Cindy back home. Do you mind if they stay at our place tonight, knowing that I might have sex with Cindy?”

I smiled. “No, not if you don’t mind if I have sex with Jim.”

Brett raised his eyebrows, smiled and said “That would be your only time on a first date; I’m not worried.”

I simply smiled back.

The car was quiet on the way back; actually the other three slept most of the way. That is until we were about five miles from home when Jim rallied and started stroking my arm and saying all sorts of nice, but not syrupy sweet, things.

When we got home Cindy and Brett went straight to the room Brett and I shared Monday-Thursday. We had two other small bedrooms, one I used if I had a guy over and Brett wasn’t around, and a “guest” room.

Jim and I talked a little more after Cindy and Brett disappeared and he couldn’t have been nicer. He didn’t presume anything, but it was obvious that he appreciated my looks — actually it was funny how he had ogled my thighs all day when he had what he thought were his “opaque” sunglasses on or thought I wasn’t looking. Finally we both knew it was time to retire.

“Do you have a bed for me, Amy, or do I need to sleep here on the couch?” Jim courteously asked.

“We have a guest room upstairs, no need for the couch,” I replied. “Let me show you.”

With that I led Jim upstairs. When we got to the guest room door, however, we could hear the distinct sound of Brett banging the shit out of Cindy. Jim was wide-eyed.

With a combination of lust, intrigue, and — I admit it — jealousy, after pausing at the guest room door for a few seconds I turned to Jim, stared up into his eyes, “innocently” put my right hand on his chest while curling the hair at my left ear with the index finger of my left hand, and said “You can sleep here in the guest room or since you’ve been so nice tonight you could bunk with me.”

Jim stared back almost expressionless for what seemed to be a long time, but probably was just a few seconds. Then he smashed his lips onto mine, lifted me up with the same ease Brett exhibited, and carried me into my room.

The guy who had been so polite and reserved the whole night now was an animal — a respectful animal, but a tiger nevertheless. He had both of our clothes off in seconds, laid me on the bed on top of the covers, and had his lips, tongue, and every digit actively engaged instantly.

I knew I had correctly observed his demeanor when he enthusiastically went after my thighs. Not the least bit subtle as he was licking, biting, and groping them he would occasionally come up for air and say shit like “Your thighs are ‘killer,'” “You’ve got the best legs I’ve ever seen,” then followed by “I’m gonna fuck you senseless.”

When I responded “Stop talking and get to work,” he did so with alacrity. He got into a 69 position, totally molested my poor little clit, G-spot and pussy lips, then turned me on my hands and knees and doggy fucked the shit out of me. As he was pounding away with one hand he would alternate between stroking a thigh and stimulating my clit, and with the other squeeze a nipple. We had monster simultaneous orgasms.

When I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom as I was returning to my room I heard stirring in the room I normally share with Brett. I dragged my naked ass over to the door and listened. It was obvious that the occupants were waking up. Soon I heard sucking noises, then slurping, then banging. My pussy was getting wet.

I went back to my room. Jim was still on the top of the covers, naked, his dick inviting. I went over to him, sucked him hard — obviously waking him up — and then impaled myself on him and rode him to another almost simultaneous climax.

There were four happy people at breakfast, but Brett and I were exchanging weird looks; I noticed that Jim and Cindy were too.

Jim and Cindy stayed most of the day, and we worked out together, went canoeing on the stream running through the town, showered (all separately) and had an early dinner before they left for their temporary apartment, about five miles away. Brett was uncharacteristically anxious to talk.

“Well do you like Jim?”

“Yeah, he’s OK,” I coyly replied.

“If he’s just OK why is he the only guy you’ve ever fucked on the first date?”

“Well when I heard you fucking the Amazon I got inspired,” I sneered.

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